Joanne Murray - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Harry got a surprise as he looked in at the bookshop window. Instead of the usual display of gold-embossed spellbooks the size of paving slabs, there was a large iron cage behind the glass which held about a hundred copies of The Monster Book of Monsters. Torn pages were flying everywhere as the books grappled with each other, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively.

Harry pulled his booklist out of his pocket and consulted it for the first time. The Monster Book of Monsters was listed as the set book for Care of Magical Creatures. Now Harry understood why Hagrid had said it would come in useful. He felt relieved; he had been wondering whether Hagrid wanted help with some terrifying new pet.

As Harry entered Flourish and Blotts, the manager came hurrying towards him.

‘Hogwarts?’ he said abruptly. ‘Come to get your new books?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry. ‘I need -’

‘Get out of the way,’ said the manager impatiently, brushing Harry aside. He drew on a pair of very thick gloves, picked up a large, knobbly walking stick and proceeded towards the door of the Monster Books’ cage.

‘Hang on,’ said Harry quickly, ‘I’ve already got one of those.’

‘Have you?’ A look of enormous relief spread over the manager’s face. ‘Thank heavens for that, I’ve been bitten five times already this morning -’

A loud ripping noise rent the air; two of the Monster Books had seized a third and were pulling it apart.

‘Stop it! Stop it!’ cried the manager, poking the walking stick through the bars and knocking the books apart. ‘I’m never stocking them again, never! It’s been bedlam! I thought we’d seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of The Invisible Book of Invisibility — cost a fortune, and we never found them ... Well, is there anything else I can help you with?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry, looking down his booklist. ‘I need Unfogging the Future, by Cassandra Vablatsky.’

‘Ah, starting Divination, are you?’ said the manager, stripping off his gloves and leading Harry into the back of the shop, where there was a corner devoted to fortune-telling. A small table was stacked with volumes such as Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself against Shocks and Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul.

‘Here you are,’ said the manager, who had climbed a set of steps to take down a thick, black-bound book. ‘Unfogging the Future. Very good guide to all your basic fortune-telling methods - palmistry, crystal balls, bird entrails ... ’

But Harry wasn’t listening. His eyes had fallen on another book, which was among a display on a small table: Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t read that if I were you,’ said the assistant lightly, looking to see what Harry was staring at. ‘You’ll start seeing death omens everywhere, it’s enough to frighten anyone to death.’

But Harry continued to stare at the front cover of the book; it showed a black dog large as a bear, with gleaming eyes. It looked oddly familiar ...

The assistant pressed Unfogging the Future into Harry’s hands. ‘Anything else?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ said Harry, tearing his eyes away from the dog’s and dazedly consulting his booklist. ‘Er - I need Intermediate Transfiguration and The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three.’

Harry emerged from Flourish and Blotts ten minutes later with his new books under his arms, and made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron, hardly noticing where he was going and bumping into several people.

He tramped up the stairs to his room, went inside and tipped his books onto his bed. Somebody had been in to tidy; the windows were open and sun was pouring inside. Harry could hear the buses rolling by in the unseen Muggle street behind him, and the sound of the invisible crowd below in Diagon Alley. He caught sight of himself in the mirror over the basin.

‘It can’t have been a death omen,’ he told his reflection defiantly. ‘I was panicking when I saw that thing in Magnolia Crescent. It was probably just a stray dog ... ’

He raised his hand automatically and tried to make his hair lie flat.

‘You’re fighting a losing battle there, dear,’ said his mirror in a wheezy voice.

*

As the days slipped by, Harry started looking wherever he went for a sign of Ron or Hermione. Plenty of Hogwarts students were arriving in Diagon Alley now, with the start of term so near. Harry met Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, his fellow Gryffindors, in Quality Quidditch Supplies, where they, too, were ogling the Firebolt; he also ran into the real Neville Longbottom, a roundfaced, forgetful boy, outside Flourish and Blotts. Harry didn’t stop to chat; Neville appeared to have mislaid his booklist, and was being told off by his very formidable-looking grandmother. Harry hoped she never found out that he’d pretended to be Neville while on the run from the Ministry of Magic.

Harry woke on the last day of the holidays, thinking that he would at least meet Ron and Hermione tomorrow, on the Hogwarts Express. He got up, dressed, went for a last look at the Firebolt, and was just wondering where he’d have lunch, when someone yelled his name and he turned.

‘Harry! HARRY!’

They were there, both of them, sitting outside Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour, Ron looking incredibly freckly, Hermione very brown, both waving frantically at him.

‘Finally!’ said Ron, grinning at Harry as he sat down. ‘We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you’d left, and we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin’s, and -’

‘I got all my school stuff last week,’ Harry explained. ‘And how come you know I’m staying at the Leaky Cauldron?’

‘Dad,’ said Ron simply.

Mr Weasley, who worked at the Ministry of Magic, would of course have heard the whole story of what had happened to Aunt Marge.

‘Did you really blow up your aunt, Harry?’ said Hermione in a very serious voice.

‘I didn’t mean to,’ said Harry, while Ron roared with laughter. ‘I just - lost control.’

‘It’s not funny, Ron,’ said Hermione sharply. ‘Honestly, I’m amazed Harry wasn’t expelled.’

‘So am I,’ admitted Harry. ‘Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested.’ He looked at Ron. ‘Your dad doesn’t know why Fudge let me off, does he?’

‘Probably ’cause it’s you, isn’t it?’ shrugged Ron, still chuckling. ‘Famous Harry Potter and all that. I’d hate to see what the Ministry’d do to me if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they’d have to dig me up first, because Mum would’ve killed me. Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We’re staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight, too! So you can come to King’s Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione’s there as well!’

Hermione nodded, beaming. ‘Mum and Dad dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things.’

‘Excellent!’ said Harry happily. ‘So, have you got all your new books and stuff?’

‘Look at this,’ said Ron, pulling a long thin box out of a bag and opening it. ‘Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we’ve got all our books’ - he pointed at a large bag under his chair. ‘What about those Monster Books, eh? The assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted two.’

‘What’s all that, Hermione?’ Harry asked, pointing at not one, but three, bulging bags in the chair next to her.

‘Well, I’m taking more new subjects than you, aren’t I?’ said Hermione. ‘Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies -’